BRAZIL OF MINE

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    BRAZIL OF MINE


    BRAZIL OF MINE


    The color that you see in my skin, is not the color of my spirit.
    My abstract self has the color of the prettiest light. Light that, Illuminating you makes appear the color of your own abstract.
    This is how you show yourself, how you reveal yourself to me,
    How you like to be. Centuries had passed, slavery finished but, However, my presence still bothers you.

    II

    My love for you left the taste of revenge still in your mouth.
    Your abstract self do not accept the joy and the beauty of my smile.
    Your false superiority does not allow you to see the love that I have
    For you. Your weakness makes you, unconsciously, fear me.
    The hand that I extended to you, remains bare empty, you do not
    Open the door, you do not invite me nor come
    To pay me a visit.

    III

    The suffering that, through centuries, you imposed me,
    Did not kill the joy of my spirit, neither silenced my voice nor
    Suffocated my pleasure of singing and dancing.
    I knocked at the front door of your home, you did not come to open it, You did not allow me to enter. Patiently, I leaned myself in it and
    There I stood, because I had to recall you that I continued there, your Door did not resisted time, but I did.

    IV

    Today, frightened and with some unpleasantness, with me
    You share your welfare. You have me in your table participating of
    Your supper, I lie down with your daughters and, still thus, you continue To reject me. For how much time do you think that you can resist my
    Presence? I want my space, I came to be. I am part of your
    World, I conquer all the pains that you imposed me, I defeated
    Time, I knocked down your door and your resistance. I am
    Seated in your room, I am part of your family and
    Patiently, I won against you.


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    LadyL714 commented on BRAZIL OF MINE

    03-15-2009

    This is a nice poem, but I would suggest you be cautious in your punctuation; a lot of it is unnecessary. I would like to see more of your work, however.

    Mlucio

    06/03/2009

    Dear LadyL, I thank you so much for your comment, I really appreaciat it. Well, It is a translation from the original that I wroght in portuguese and the translation was made not by by me, so I must respect other people works. Finaly, unfortunately I don't wright poems in English, I do it only in portuguese, I already published three books - MEUS PASSOS, O CANTAR DOS VENTOS E O VENDEDOR DE ILUSÕES, each one with 200 poems, but all the poems in portuguese. Mauro Lucio

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Mlucio’s Poems (9)

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    STORM 1
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    LIES 0
    SCREAM 0
    BRAZIL OF MINE 1